A Hundred Weeds to Pull
by sakanascales876
Summary: Because no love is perfect, even when it involves reincarnated royals, supergirls in miniskirts, homicidal talking cats, and a billion klutz attacks. Written for the 100 themes drabble challenge at the UsaMamo: A Love Like No Other lj community.
1. Theme 23: Valentines

Sorry you guys about the next chapter of Never Walk if Off. I didn't abandon you guys. I'm currently having it edited by my new beta,  
and while it's being fixed for you, I decided to start up this challenge again. What better way to kick it off then on Valentine's Day, eh?  
I don't own Sailor Moon, never have never will. More drabbles will be up shortly, for I have written almost ten of them already. I'm so proud ;)

Well, enough of that.  
-Enjoy

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**Theme 23: Valentines (2,021 words)**

**Mamoru's POV**

Today was just one of those days when you wake up with a dagger of anxiety protruding from your forehead, letting everybody that you come in contact with know to get the heck out of your way or by God you were going to run them through with a rusty pitch fork.

This was exactly how my day started. I was sweaty, cold, and greatly perturbed, and I didn't have an idea why. With all honesty, I didn't want to know why. Whenever I found something out, it usually involved a cluster of teenage girls in miniskirts throwing boomerangs at my head.

Nah-ah, you could immediately lock that door. I most _definitely _did not want to find out why now.

Today…was a strange day. I felt at every moment that I was about to make a decision that would turn out awesomely awesome, like I would punch Zoicite in the face, single handedly destroy the Dark Kingdom, find the princess, and protect that damn crystal that was just _so_ important that she has to tell me about it in my _dreams_ instead of person. Or, it would turn out awfully awful, like I would flunk out of college, get stomped on by zebras, my one true predator, and then get socked in the gut by Sailor Jupiter.

That was also why I hardly paid any attention to the millions and millions of cards and girl's phone numbers in my desk when I walked into class that day. I really didn't notice their predatory stares as I ate my lunch either. And I certainly didn't realize the way that they all seemed to be bumping into me, meekly apologizing, and then rushing away to giggle with their friends. Nope; I was oblivious, and I was glad that I was, or I'm sure that I would have pushed the girl that was brave enough to pinch my butt into the nearest shrubbery of roses.

But then, as I was walking home, the strangest, most bizarre thing _ever_ happened.

And no, I wasn't stampeded by packs of wild zebras…I'd already checked for them at the crosswalk.

I saw a girl…a girl dressed in a mid-thigh, hot pink jumper dress, with long red sleeves beneath it, two knee length socks, one that was pink with purple polka dots, and one that was purple with pink polka dots. She wore what must have been almost forty parade beads around her neck, each one dangling with at least one heart charm or arrow or flower. Her hair was laced with pink ribbons, though her hair was so long, they didn't even manage to skim past her waist. She was wearing flat bottomed, shining white sneakers that looked like they had been written on with red, pink, and purple permanent markers. So did her face. And her neck. And her hands. And the expanse of her legs that weren't covered by the socks…not that I was looking of course.

But the sad part was I didn't even realize that I was staring into the face of Tsukino Usagi until she reached out with a baby pink nail and poked me softly in the chest.

"Mamoru-baka," she pronounced slowly and sweetly, as though she didn't actually hate me inside. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

And it hit me harder than when Nephrite kicked my jaw with enough force to knock my teeth out. My dentist couldn't have been happier. It was Valentine's Day. Of course. No wonder my friends and I were being stalked by the entire female population of Japan.

I stared back down into Usagi's sparkling eyes. Well, ninety nine point nine percent of it.

She stood patiently, the blasted angel, waiting for me to say something.

"Odango," I began slowly, chuckling a bit when her smile disintegrated. "Why do you look like cupid whacked you in the face with his sack of hearts and diapers?"

She huffed, fists clenching, cheeks rosing…my favorite expression. "That's right. It's the scrooge of all holidays. How could I forget?"

I took a step closer, marveling at the intimidation in her eyes. And around her eyes, were scribbles of hearts, and…names?

"Why do you have marker all over you?" I asked, a cube of uncertainty expanding in my stomach.

She licked her glossy lips, and I thought I saw them curl back into a smile.

"I had all my friends sign me!" she chirped.

I smirked. "No kidding…but why?"

She rolled her eyes as though I couldn't figure out where the last piece of the puzzle went.

"Well duh," she groaned. "Because it's so much greater than a card, that's why!"

I could have argued, but I didn't. Instead, I began to read all the names that had been tattooed on her face. Among them, I saw some familiar ones…Rei, Ami, Makoto, Minako, and Motoki. But I also saw some unfamiliar ones.

I saw phone numbers, and above them, names. Boy's names. _Other_ boy's names. Not mine.

It made me feel angry and disappointed, and there was absolutely nothing that I could do about it.

I scrutinized her face, her hands, her—gulp—legs.

I felt my fists clenching in anger. How many 'friends' did this girl possibly have? I knew I was being childish, and I knew that I was being unreasonable, something that I had thought I had overcome back in the orphanage, but then I looked into her face.

She was smiling at me, kindly and patiently, not menacing and knowingly.

I felt my very soul sigh in frustration. Damn her and her innocence and naiveté. Obviously, the Odango didn't see anything suspicious about all the boy's that seemed to want to sign her, and that just wasn't okay with me. But what could I do? The only thing I'd been able to do so far was huff enough carbon dioxide into the air so the trees and leaves and whatever wouldn't be able to get rid of it. Woo hoo…go Earth…

I noticed the way they travelled up her legs, underneath her socks and shoes, but I was positive that they stopped above the edge of her dress. Even _Usagi_ wasn't that gullible.

I gulped. Or was she?

I saw red.

And pink, and purple.

And it was desecrating her perfect, creamy skin.

Concealing my obvious disdain, I turned to her again, and she was holding a red marker in front of my face.

"What's this?" I grumbled somewhat bitterly.

She gulped nervously, digging her sneaker into the concrete. "Do you want to sign?"

She gazed at me nervously, and I felt guilty for being mad at her.

How the hell in a hamster ball was she able to always do that?

I blinked and nodded, my tongue swelling in my mouth, invisible sweat slipping down my face. I snatched the marker from her outstretched hand, unsnapping the cap and holding it towards her face.

I scanned it for a moment, then her hands, and as quickly as I could, her legs.

She seemed to notice that something was strange also.

"What is it?" she whispered.

I gulped and met her unresponsive eyes. "Uh, there's no room left for me to sign."

She frowned. "None at all?"

I shook my head.

"What about my eyelids?" She closed her eyes tightly, but the tiny words of, 'Best friends forever, love Naru,' were scrawled across them.

"Nope."

She glanced down at her nails, but the letters of 'Valentine's' were already there.

I heard a frustrated, strangle noise come from her throat, and it made my heart fly out of my mouth and into the heavens. She acted as if it really mattered to her that my name was somewhere on her, and ego moved into my head and set up a residence.

"Uh…it looks like there's no room left," I admitted, defeated.

She bit her bottom lip, her brows drawing together dejectedly, all the different names crinkling along with them.

"Are you sure?" she asked in the smallest voice I had ever heard. My heart was sawed in half, thrown onto the ground, stomped on, ripped into tiny shreds, and then swept away by a leaf blower.

Well…there was _one_ place that hadn't been signed yet, but I wasn't sure that I was courageous enough to put anything there.

I gazed into her eyes, which were sweltering with poorly concealed disappointment and…oh God, were those tears?

I thought back to this morning; I was a nervous wreck, and now I could see why. It was either do or die. And there was a chance that she would kill me if I did.

"Mamoru…" she breathed.

I inwardly growled. Zebras and precautions be damned, I was going to do it even if the sun exploded and killed us then and there.

I swooped down, grabbed her shoulders, ignored her nervous squeak, and captured her lips with mine. I saw her eyes widen, and her hands land against my chest.

Oh Jesus…she's going to kill me.

Her arms snaked around my neck, and just as I thought she was going to strangle me, she was kissing me back. Her glossy pink lips molded themselves to mine, and I could taste all the chocolate and candy that she had devoured today.

Not even the zebras could bring me down.

We stood there for what must have been twenty minutes, and I threw dirty looks at the people who were staring at us from the corner of my eyes. I just couldn't stop, and neither could she from the way she was running her hands through my hair.

But finally, she began to push on my chest, and I couldn't figure out for the life of me why.

Oh…_air_. That made sense. People needed air in order to---

I pushed her away gently, allowing her to greedily suck in all the oxygen she could. By the rate she was taking it in, my ego had claimed the moon in the name of Japan, and the trees would be working overtime tonight to replenish the rest of the world's oxygen supply.

She finally met my eyes, but she didn't say anything, and neither did I. I couldn't.

It was slightly awkward in the way that was exciting and happy at the same time, like those storied of when someone gives their friend their lottery ticket and then the friend ends up winning it all.

And I sure felt like a winner.

Slowly, she reached up and grabbed my hand, redirecting my cloudy eyes to hers. She stared at me, and I stared back. I had never been faced with a situation such as this before…not in all the years I could remember, even at the orphanage.

"What was that…" she began.

"I was just, uh---."

Did she hate me now? Please don't hate me, Odango…

She licked her lips. "It's okay, I'm the one that, err---_you know_."

I gulped. "If you want to forget, I would, you know, understand and stuff about things…"

She blinked at me and then giggled, and I couldn't even conceal the genuine smile that came to my face. I didn't even know what I was smiling about, but it felt so good.

I looked down at our entwined hands and blushed, staring at anything but her. Clearing my throat, I avoided her eyes, even when she looked curiously up at me.

"Odango," I began. "Um, would you like to go to Arcade with me and get a milkshake or something? It'll be my treat."

I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable _no_ that I was about to receive.

It never came.

In a matter of seconds, she was dragging me along the sidewalk, chatting about everything and nothing at the same time, and I absolutely loved it.

I snaked my arm around her shoulder, ignoring my erratically thumping chest as she leant her head against me, her odangos bouncing along my heart.

In my mind, I recapped my golden pen, reveling where I had just inscribed _Chiba Mamoru_, all over her soul.

And even throughout the trials of our long eternity, through thick and thin, it never faded.

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Happy Valentine's day! Review


	2. Theme 21: Mischief

Well hello there everyone. Just posting a drabble for my birthday, and I thought that Mischief would fit the cause.  
I am soooo sorry about the delay on Never Walk it Off, but I am currently having the next chapter edited for you all.  
Please review, because it makes me really happy, and I love to hear your input. And this one happens to be one of  
the 'Funny ones.' And unfortunately, _yes_ this did happen to me. Beware of hills.

Enjoy!

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A Hundred Weeds to pull

By sakanascales876

**Theme 21: Mischief (1,068 words)**

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"Motoki-kun, you're lost."

"I am not. Reika said to turn left."

Rei rolled her lavender eyes. "You named your parent's GPS?"

"It makes me feel more comfortable than it would if I were talking to the dashboard."

Minako grumbled and leaned against the back of Motoki's plush seat, her lips drawing into a pout that couldn't easily be made out in the dark. "Well Reika's been telling us to turn left for the past twelve and a half miles. Right into the ocean."

"She has our best interests at heart," Motoki vehemently protested.

More grumbles.

"Wait," Ami interrupted softly, her brows crinkling as she squinted to make out the map in her hands. "Reika's right. We do have to turn left on this road."

Motoki turned in his seat and stuck out his tongue teasingly at Minako. "Ha!"

"Well we did…around thirteen miles back."

Everyone in the back of the van could see Minako's teeth glimmer. Rei scoffed from her position in the driver's seat, Makoto guffawed from behind Rei, and Ami let her head roll back in silent giggles against the sliding door. Legs were tangled together as they all sat on the floor of the van, having removed the seats before making their trip to the beach.

Usagi, who was resting against the back wall, languidly stretched out her limbs against the other occupant's protests.

"Hey," Motoki chuckled. "Don't wreck anything back there…my mom and dad would kill me for messing up their van."

Minako grinned and dumped her sneaker upside down, Makoto and her both snickering as the sand spilled out like an hour glass.

"Too late," she sang.

Rei reached back and tugged on one of the blonde's tresses. "Idiot," she muttered, but then called to Ami, "Is there another route home? Reika's starting to give me a headache."

Minako immediately raised her arm and nodded firmly. "I second that."

"I'm sure you would," Makoto mumbled, earning a kick from her companion.

Ami bit her lip as she squinted to read the tiny print. "Well," the blunette began. "There's a dirt road off to the side about a half mile up. It says you just have to go over… 'Dead Man's Hill' and it will lead you back onto the main road."

Usagi shivered. "I'm not really liking the sound of the whole, 'Dead Man's,' part."

"I second that," Makoto agreed.

"You would," Minako mimicked, earning a kick from her companion.

"Well," Motoki said as he pulled onto the secluded road. "It's a bit late for that now."

The van roved along, thatches of trees shadowing over and reflecting against the front headlights. Usagi trembled as she stared out the window into the pitch darkness. Motoki drove slowly, trying to make the tire's lives a bit easier by not rolling over the bits and pieces of gravel in the way. And after around ten minutes, they found out why it was called Dead Man's Hill.

Motoki stopped the van, taking a moment to whistle at what seemed like a cliff on the road. The hill was so steep, that if he went over it too fast, the seats would lift off the ground. Or people.

They all took a moment to grin at one another. _Especially People._

Slowly, each of them, even Ami, turned to face Mamoru, who was gently napping in the opposite corner of Usagi, arms crossed firmly over his chest. He had been exhausted when he dragged himself back to the van, probably because he had spent all his time and energy splashing and tormenting a certain odangoed one.

They knew their plan.

Motoki mouthed to all of them, "Hold on."

Minako gripped Motoki's seat, Motoki and Rei buckled each other in, Makoto latched onto the back of Rei's seat, Ami gripped the handle next to the sliding door with both hands, and Usagi reached up to grasp a latch on the back ceiling meant for hanging hooks.

And then Motoki floored it.

As the van seemed to vault over the hill/cliff, they all began to laugh hysterically as Mamoru's body leapt into the air in what appeared like slow motion. There was a gut-popping thud, and as fast as he went up, Mamoru's body crashed back down.

"Ow! God Dammit!" he groaned, before glaring up at Motoki, who was now driving nonchalantly. "What the hell just happened?"

His best friend shrugged. "I didn't feel anything. Did you guys?"

They all shook their heads, Ami covering her mouth to suppress the smile that was silently strangling her.

"Ah," Mamoru winced. "I feel like somebody just clubbed the back of my head!"

Nobody made a sound.

Mamoru moaned and fell back down to rest on the area he landed on, which just so happened to be a petrified Usagi's lap.

Minako noticed this who nudged Makoto, who then quietly alerted the rest of the van's occupants. They all burst out into silent giggles, and Usagi mouthed to them all, 'Traitors!'

No one else talked until they were sure that he was asleep again.

"I want a picture of this," Makoto whispered, digging into her beach bag for her camera.

"Don't you dare," Usagi spat. "I will _kill_ you."

Minako sniggered, and even in the dark you could see her face was still strawberry red from the recent hilarity. "Oh please, you act like you don't like it. He just doesn't want to get up."

Usagi glowered at her. "You wish."

Rei didn't look too sure. "I don't know," she said softly. "He looks pretty darn comfortable." She shifted her eyes teasingly to Usagi's. "And so do you."

Usagi glared, but couldn't resist but to look down. His dark hair was brushed over his eyelids, and his warm breath tickled her legs and her thigh tingled from where his hand was gently resting against it.

She blushed and then defiantly turned her head away.

"If he knew that he was in my lap right now, he would probably shoot himself from disgust!" she hissed.

After a moment or two, Makoto finally fished out her camera. "Smile!" she coaxed. And despite the situation, Usagi silently shook from laughter as the flash went off, followed by a warm hand clamping down on her leg.

She yelped.

"Can you stop laughing, Odango?" Mamoru complained. "It's hard to sleep here when you keep jolting like that."

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Well there you have it. Just to let you know, do not do that to people. It hurts so bad, and you can't even think straight for days afterwards.  
Aren't friends just great?

Let me know what you thought! **REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!**


	3. Theme 18: Death

Hello there, everyone. I have to say that usually I don't update this quickly, but in light of recent  
events, I decided to update today. A friend of mine, Tyler, happened to overdose last night at a  
party and he died. Please keep him, along with his family in your mind or your prayers. So, I thought  
that it would only be fitting to write this drabble and post it today.

I would like to thank all those who have reviewed this story so far, and hopefully, another update  
may be out this weekend.

-Fishyscales

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A Hundred Weeds to Pull

By sakanascales876

**Theme 18: Death (2,021 words)**

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She disgracefully stumbled from my arms as we both landed on the roof, both of us grunting from the impact against the concrete. She wasn't moving, and my entire body tensed, just waiting for her to get up and do something stupid, just like she usually did.

I could feel the blood from the raw gashes across my chest slowly expending from my body, but I could only look at her. Lifeless. Cold. Empty.

Even though she wasn't.

My vision was cut off from the deep laceration against her side, for she was lying on it, her face scrunched beneath her hair in an obvious look of pain, though I honestly doubted that it was even from the scratch anymore.

"Sailor Moon," I croaked, reaching out my gloved hand towards her, though coming just a few inches short of grasping her arm. "Get up."

She shook her head vigorously back and forth, and even though her pigtails were flattened against the ground, her hair still bounced against the swarm of cold air that crushed us. Warm breath leaked from her nose, clouds of synthetic smoke burning my eyes even though it was only air. She seemed to have the same look on her face about me, but I didn't turn away.

"We have to get out of here," I pleaded with her again.

She opened her mouth, and for a moment, I thought she was going to scream.

Her chest began to rise and fall haphazardly, and though her mouth was open no sound came out. I didn't know whether or not I should take her to a hospital or let her stick it out.

"Leave me," she coughed, eyes clothes-pinned shut, nose crinkled, and shoulders caving in.

As she turned to face me, I could see the crimson fluid trailing from her side, and though it looked slightly serious, I was glad that it was nothing compared to mine, which was slowly draining me like a bathtub.

"It's all my fault," she sobbed as she shook her head, tears pouring from her eyes. "My fault…mine!"

I didn't say anything, and I didn't reach for her, fear that I would break her coursing throughout my numb body.

The bitter air had reduced my eyes to popsicles, making my heart shiver in anger that I had to do something so humanly as blink, meaning that I had to let my guard down.

When I opened them back up again, her eyes were open, but they were staring off into the distance of the city below, gazing emptily as the ambulances pulled up into the scene of their last battle.

"He's dead," she croaked. "He's dead…dead—dead."

She looked back at me with an anxious look in her eye that I had only seen in the souls of the mental patients that I sometimes came across in my studies.

She started tapping my burning shoulder incessantly, like a toddler demanding for attention.

"Look," she said softly, almost lightly. "Dead."

I clasped the gloved hand that was resting on my shoulder, squeezing it roughly to the point where I saw her wince and hiss at me. My grip didn't lessen.

"Let's go," I demanded, trying to tug her to her feet but failing miserably, seeing as I couldn't get up myself.

She threw her head back and laughed, though the strange gurgling noise quickly turned into sobs after a moment. Long, pain laced sobs that would tear at even the blackest of hearts until they were nothing but mere shreds floating through the wind of the night.

With crystal eyes that screamed with anguish, the Senshi of the Moon looked despairingly back up at me, her long lashes dripping with tears onto her cheeks.

"Why? Why should we leave? That boy…that god damned little boy down there is dead, and it's all my fault!" she screamed, her face red and her teeth bared. "Why…?"

I wanted to slap her, as they did in the movies, but raising a hand to her was not an option.

"It's not your fault," I rasped, her hand still caught in mine.

But with an insane shake of the head, she smiled up at me, though her eyes were emotionless and wild. "Then it's yours."

My heart, that was already beating at a dangerously fast pace decided to stop. I gulped, and my brain dropped into my stomach, bile churning as it burned at the last of my wits.

On shaking limbs, she dragged herself over to me and began beating furiously on my chest. It didn't hurt me, but my insides were writhing in agony.

"Why?" she shrieked, her tiny fists denting my soul. "You could have saved him! You _should_ have saved him! Why—why---why?"

Her fists lowered themselves to her sides, and she went toppling over onto her side, her knees slowly curling up into her bloody abdomen as her arms snaked around them like a manacle. Her body rocked slowly back and forth as her shoulders trembled worse than her lip, which was crumpling from the sobs that tore against her throat.

Frustrated tears began to flutter down my cheeks. My right fist clenched while my left one remained limp as it pressed against the gashes along my chest.

"I had to save you. You would have died," I said, clearing my throat from what I was sure was blood. If she had died…I shut my eyes tightly and hoped that I never had to open them again to that image.

"Better me than him!" she spat. "If I had been quicker then he would still be alive! He was just a little boy!"

"And you're just a little girl!" I snapped harshly, taking in her glare with a strange sense of fulfillment.

"Then why is he dead instead of me?"

I once again tried to reach out to her, but she slapped my hand away and recoiled back against the corner she resided in.

I looked at her desperately, and she gazed back with equally distraught eyes, swollen from tears and shock.

"Don't say that!" I ordered. "Don't ever say that…it wasn't your fault…it wasn't."

I could already feel my sanity slipping away from the once firm hold that I had upon it, all because of one night, and all because of one girl.

A little boy had died at my hands. _Our hands._

I had been so close…Moon had tripped, and the boy was beside her. I leapt into the way and swept her out of there, but not without a getting chipped by the youma's energy. I couldn't grab both of them and…I sighed, running my hand through my hair. This was just like my parents, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

I chose her, and even if I had to do it again, I still would have chosen her.

Through the utter silence of the sirens and the shouting and the sobs and the cries that violated our world within the hell that was the roof, I heard a shout of grief so horrible that it felt as though I was being blasted by the youma again. My mind was sliding away, I was losing blood, and the only thing I wanted to do anymore was curl up into a ball and cry, something that I had not been acquainted with in years.

Her eyes were blank, her face was blank, and I was nearly positive that her mind was blank. But nonetheless, she pushed herself up on both arms, and somehow, she managed to stand, clutching at her bleeding side.

She began to drag herself against across the expanse of the building, making her way towards the cries of the people below.

"It should have been me…" she chanted, in a voice so busted that I doubted that God himself could have mended it. "It should have been me."

I didn't know what she was going to do, but in her state of mind, whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

With strength and perseverance that I didn't know I had, I lugged myself a few feet across the roof, grabbing onto her legs and pulling her down as she clawed against the concrete and kicked at my face.

I grunted as she aimed a swift kick at my nose, and I ignored the gut wrenching crunch that absorbed the silence around us.

"It should have been me!" she screamed, beating her fists furiously against the building. "It's my fault! Why not me? Why him?"

My tears blurred my vision but I could still see her struggling to get up. I inched myself along the ground far enough so that I was able to pin her down with my hands and body as she shouted into the sky and at the buildings across from us.

A sob escaped my chest as I pressed my cheek against the cold ground of the roof, allowing my breath to escape me in frozen huffs against the back of her hair.

"Let's go," I growled, the words coming out of my mouth like the ignition of a car engine.

Sailor Moon shook her head and her tiny hands curled into fists before her, blood from her side drenching the white gloves and blood from my chest seeping into her back.

From this angle, I was able to see down into the streets below, where the youma had been attacking a department store. A giant crater was the first thing I saw, smoke still rising from where it had almost given us our ticket to the rollercoaster of death.

I saw a woman's face, covered in tears and her hands, following the small stretcher that was covered with a blood soaked white sheet that was being hauled into the back of an ambulance by men that had seen so much of this that they were barely even fazed by it anymore.

She looked to the sky, her entire being trembling, and screamed in anguish as she sunk to her knees, quickly being hoisted back up and into the flashing truck by another man whose eyes swam with sympathy for the mother who had just lost her child.

I rolled onto my back, still keeping a hold of Sailor Moon, but away from the scene I had just witnessed. I didn't want to see it anymore, because I was positive that it was going to be haunting my dreams every night for years to come.

Silent sobs trembled throughout my shoulders, and even though I tried to hold them back, I just couldn't. It seemed that I couldn't do a lot of things anymore, and one of them was to protect. One simple job as protector of Tokyo, and I couldn't even do that right.

When I finally calmed myself a bit, I just laid there, listening to her cry silently into the ground until I decided that it was time to go, and it was time to forget.

It took me nearly five minutes to muster up enough strength to get to my knees, and around another ten to fully stand up. I reached down and shakily pulled the young heroine into my arms, trying to balance her as gently as I could without irritating her wounds, though mine were screaming louder than the sirens that blared angrily at us from below.

I could hear shouts from the ground; they were screaming our names, although they didn't sound angry. The police were swarming into the building, and I just knew that they were making their way to the roof so that they could catch us. Who knew what they would do to us then? The government would question us, experiment on us, kill us…I didn't know what, but I sure as hell wasn't about to stick around and find out.

So I did the only thing I could. I bounded from this building and made my way across the city to my apartment, where hopefully, we could rest, we could heal, and we could only try and forget this, and the trail of death and destruction that we left behind.

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Please review this chapter! And I don't mean to sound stupid, but please you guys, just don't do drugs.  
Review.

-Fishyscales 


	4. Theme 74: Two Halves

Hoo...well, here's another drabble. I don't really know where I got the idea for this from, but I just had to write it.  
Just to let you all know, I'm hoping to have the next chapter of Never Walk it Off out by March 20th.  
Thank you to all who have reviewed, and I hope to hear more of your feedback! Don't own Sailor Moon and don't want it....  
I'm such a liar.

Enjoy!

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A Hundred Weeds to Pull

by sakanascales876

**Theme 74: Two Halves (1,902 words)**

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Silently, he fumbled with the laminated sign that hung from around his neck on a golden string of twine, using his nail to pick at a corner of the edge that was pushing apart. This line was so long…he wondered briefly when he would get to the front, and what would happen when he did, but he shook the thought from his head quickly. He would never reach life.

He peered along the long line of men in front of him, each of them chatting amiably with one another like they were all old friends. They probably were; they had been standing there for such a long time. He couldn't even remember how long that he'd been standing there himself.

But nobody ever spoke to him. His only friend was the empty expanse of white oblivion that they all seemed to be crowded into, though they weren't jam packed or uncomfortable at all, quite the opposite. This seemed to be like a place where one was to make enemies and friends…but he himself hadn't accomplished either.

"You're going to rip you sign," a melodious voice spoke from beside him, and for the first time ever, he had a reason to use his own voice.

"It's okay," he mumbled, briefly reveling in the tone and timbre vibrating through his chest while taking in the person who had spoken to him. "It's only a piece of paper."

At that moment, he realized that he was talking to somebody from the only other line that existed: the female line. This half of the space was significantly louder than the other, in his opinion. And all the women in the female line were perfectly aligned with the men in his line, each pair different than the other. He honestly didn't see the purpose to this.

The girl who had spoken to him had long golden hair that was even shinier than the gold twine around his neck, and her azure eyes were the exact opposite of his. Innocent and emotional, whereas the other men and women around had told him that his eyes were so dark that they were scary. He never replied when they said that. He had no reason to.

It was odd, because while he knew that he had never even glanced in her direction, he felt subconsciously that she was always there…like she belonged there.

The girl smiled at him and spoke up. "I wouldn't rip that if I were you. Those are our names…if we lose them, how are we to be identified?"

He smiled, staring at the perfectly intact sign around her neck that was dangling from silver twine. "We don't need a name to define who we are."

She giggled, and he blushed, figuring that he liked the tinkling sound. "You seem wise."

It was the first and only compliment that he ever received, and at that moment, he decided that when he made it to life, he would be the smartest and wisest person he could be for her…only for her.

He read the card around her neck: Tsukino Usagi. Secretly, he loved the way it sounded in his mind, but he would never let her know that.

"Your name is Tsukino Usagi," he stated, pointing to her card.

She raised an eyebrow. "Well that was a bit of an obvious statement. And here I was thinking that you were wise…" she squinted to read his own card. "Chiba Mamoru."

He said nothing.

"What do you think that it's going to be like?" she asked, her blue eyes full of excitement and awe. She turned to him. "You know, life?"

Mamoru shrugged. "I haven't been there myself so I can't say. Maybe it's horrible and cruel, and we won't even know it."

Usagi shook her head vehemently, her golden hair fluttering around her in a spiral. "No. Don't say that. Any reason that we would be standing here for so long has to be worth the wait."

Mamoru almost pitied the girl, but he said nothing about it.

"I hope that you're right."

She didn't speak, but began to tug on her blond tresses as she stared nervously at her feet. Mamoru didn't know why, but he didn't like to see that expression on her face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching out a hand and gently grasping her arm. He had seen other people move from their lines before to go to the other one to give somebody a hug or something, but he had never done it himself.

She gave him a half smile and nodded. "I'm fine. It's just…I'm afraid. I keep getting this feeling that in my life, something horrible in one way, yet great in another is going to happen."

Though he didn't quite understand what she meant in words, the message seemed to feed into his heart. There had always been a nagging in the back of his mind that something was going to happen, though he had no idea what.

"I get that feeling too, sometimes," Mamoru admitted, relishing in the feeling of holding her warm arm.

She sighed, gently pulling it away and staring blankly ahead of her.

"But you're right, Mamoru. I guess we'll just have to wait until we get there."

There was an undertone of sadness in her voice that made him want to drive a sword through himself then and there. At that moment, he felt a pain in his chest, and a picture of a smirking woman with red hair, and the girl…she was behind him, screaming and crying. This couldn't be a memory; he had nothing to remember, other than the gossip and complaints of the men and women around him.

Blinking, he turned and attempted to smile for her. "But it's got to be worth the wait, right?" he said, trying to assure her. "I think it'll be great."

She reached out and shyly grasped his hand. "Me too."

Neither of them really conversed after that, and Mamoru was kind of glad that he didn't have to. In all the time that he had been standing in line, he had never felt a moment as serene and affectionate as this…and he knew he was being foolish, but he would trade his entire life to come to feel it again.

After a while, he could never keep track of time, she turned to him and said softly, "I don't know why, but I get the feeling that we've met before."

Mamoru blinked and continued to stare forward. For some reason, all of a sudden, he felt that too, and he didn't have any clue why. He had only just met her…or had he? There were some people who had been standing in this line since the dawn of time, and he was already ahead of them even though he had not taken his place until much later than them. It was strange…but it didn't sound impossible.

"Perhaps…a past life?" he asked quietly, though he could feel his palm get a bit sweaty.

She didn't seem to mind. Furrowing her brow, she chewed her bottom lip. "Maybe it was. But I don't remember having a past life, do you?"

He shook his head. "No. As far as I know, the only thing I remember is being here."

She nodded, and through the corner of his eye, he could see her eyeing their entwined hands with an unreadable expression on her face. Well, unreadable to him…he was never good with emotions either.

"Do you think," she began. "That we'll see each other again in our lives?"

His heart sped up to the point where he was afraid that it would burst. He didn't want to have to answer her question, for he feared the answer himself. And he certainly did not want to have to leave her side.

"I'm sure of it," he said firmly. He had to be.

Though she didn't smile, he could sense her entire aura lighting up the void.

"I'm glad."

They continued to stand like that for hours, days, months…who knows how long? She talked to him, he replied, and she blushed, and that was the way he was beginning to like things.

But suddenly, the line shifted, and he realized that he was at the front.

It was the elusive gate keeper to the Realm of the Living, that he had only managed to catch glimpses at twice. He looked exactly the same as he always did: white hair and wiry glasses perched upon his crooked nose. He was the one that ferried all the souls gathered in the void into the other world, and Mamoru had heard rumors circulating about him being cruel and evil, but he didn't seem to look that way at all. He shakily began to unlock the door from its old metal hinges with a smile on his crinkled, rounded face.

"I see that we're making another journey into the world again, Endymion. Or should I say…Mamoru?"

Mamoru was confused, and he held onto Usagi's hand even tighter, fearing to let go.

"Sir," he said, swallowing. "I don't want to leave yet…" he looked at Usagi. "Can't I stay for just a bit longer?"

The Gate Keeper smiled, and for the first time ever, Mamoru felt what they called anger. He didn't want to leave Usagi, and they couldn't force him to.

"Now Mamoru, I know that this is going to be hard for you, but you have to let go for _now_. I promise to you that you will see this girl again…I'm positive of it."

Mamoru's eyes shifted to Usagi's nervous ones, and he shook his head. "Can she come with me?"

"I'm afraid that it is not young Sere---I mean _Usagi's_ time yet. You will be reunited soon. But first," he gently grasped Mamoru's other hand, pulling his away from her and closer to the door. "You must begin your life on your own."

He didn't want to go…not without her. Mamoru glanced back to see tears rushing down her face, and he walked back over to her and engulfed her in a hug, rubbing the back of her head until she finally calmed down.

"I don't want you to go," she whispered, her arms circling around his waist.

He smiled sadly, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "I don't want to go either…but I'll find you."

She sniffled and pulled away. "Promise?"

His body seemed to rupture with warmth and light. "Of course."

He stepped backwards toward the door, smiling only half heartedly at the Gate Keeper. His eyes never left hers though, even as he stepped into the portal into the unknown.

The last image of the two lines in the void was Usagi, waving to him frantically and shouting with tears in her eyes, "Good luck!"

As all the colors seemed to blend together, Mamoru wiped his own tears away. He would see her again, and then he would never have to leave her side, and she would stay by his. And even as time withered on, he promised to himself then not to forget her no matter what.

She belonged at his side, just as he belonged at hers.

Finally, after walking down the path for what seemed like eternity, he clutched the edge of a rip in the void, gasping as he was engulfed in a pure white light.

"Congratulations Chiba-san. It's a boy."

* * *

Well, let me know what you thought! Review!

-Fishyscales ;)


	5. Theme 54: Nightmare

Well, here's another drabble for you. Just wanted to let you know that the next chapter of  
Never Walk it Off is _most likely_ going to be out on March 20th. I don't own Sailor Moon, and I  
never will because my name is not Naoko Takeuchi.

By the way, I just wanted to ask this question to you guys for future reference:

**Do you like it when authors add OC's to their stories? Why, or why not?**

Thank you to all who have reviewed! I enjoy hearing your feedback and hope to hear more!

Enough of my musings...  
-Enjoy

* * *

A Hundred Weeds to Pull

By sakanascales876

**Theme 54: Nightmare (1,459 Words)**

* * *

"You cannot have him this time," the Dark Queen spoke as the tips of the horns jutting from her shoulders and arms slowly began to melt onto the marble floors. "He was never yours to take."

She saw herself, standing firmly in a corner of the unfamiliar room, hanging onto her arm that was hanging limply at her side. Blood accessorized the side of the long, milky white dress that she was wearing, and her hair was silver to the point of being almost transparent. Candle light illuminated blazing eyes that were merely focused on the sword the Dark Queen held in her skeletal hands.

"Nor was he yours. But that was and is his decision to make," the woman said. Usagi took a step back from her unnoticeable corner in the room. This woman could not in any way be her…she was too dignified.

"He won't make the same mistake this time, Serenity. Endymion remembers what happened to him because of you…you ruined _everything_."

She pointed out a porcelain white hand that's nail was about as long as her crooked smirk. Her shoulders and torso were beginning to mesh together, pieces of the wicked snake dripping to the floor in puddles of purple, red and white.

"If I remember correctly, _Beryl_," Serenity began. "It was you that killed him with a sword."

Beryl's eyes narrowed. "It was _you_ that he died for!"

"You cannot have him," Serenity declared angrily, her petite shoulders shaking. "His heart belongs to me."

"Then I'll take it from you…this time will be different, young princess. I swear to you that it will."

Usagi couldn't stifle a gasp as Beryl's hair set ablaze into a color even brighter than the fire surrounding them.

Both of the women turned toward Usagi, Serenity showing panic, Beryl displaying mirth.

"Hello there, young Serenity," Beryl chuckled evilly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Usagi said nothing…she didn't know why she was there, how she was there. She backed up into the corner, cursing in her mind that there was no where left to go.

Beryl began to slowly stalk her from across the room, trails of herself sliding across the floor at the tail of her dress.

"You think you're going to get him this time?" she asked. "Do you honestly believe that he'll choose you again after everything that you've caused? You're nothing to him, dear child. _Nothing._"

Usagi shivered at the menace in her voice, grasping onto the damp stone wall behind her and attempting to dig her nails into it to no avail.

Beryl threw her now glistening head back and roared with laughter, still making her way towards the corner.

"And do you suppose that I'm going to let you get away with it? No." Her smile faded, and her melting irises seemed to crystallize and fixate on the wall behind her.

"If I were to kill you now…he would never get the chance to make that decision again."

She stood right before Usagi, the edges of her dress melding themselves to the floor. She didn't even have a chance to blink before Beryl wrapped both of her clawed hands around Usagi's neck, squeezing to the point where she was sure that had her head tilted forward, her eyes would have popped clean out of her head.

She kicked, she screamed, she cried, but nothing would relinquish the hold the Dark Queen had over her. She was slipping away…her eyelids wilted and her entire body feeling heavier.

There was an unsheathing, and then a sickening clash of blade and flesh. Beryl's hands grew limp, and blood oozed from the corner of her pale lips, staining the front of Usagi's blouse and her own violet dress.

Her entire body seemed to liquefy, starting at her feet, and then slowly crawling up. The last thing that Usagi saw was her molten amber eyes falling to the floor like glass balls and shattering, each shard of gold reflecting the blood that now trickled from the edges of Serenity's sword.

Said woman stood straight, sword slumping to the ground with a clank of finality.

Her eyes misted warmly as she regarded the remains of Beryl with a smile. "You cannot have him, Beryl. On behalf of love and justice, and on behalf of the moon, _he is mine_."

* * *

Dazed, confused, and bizarrely frightened, Usagi jolted from her bed, trying to get as far a distance away from it as she could.

That dream…it had felt so real. Her neck ached, and her nails were slightly tingling.

"Usagi-chan?" Luna called drowsily from her perch at the end of the bed. "What's wrong?"

Staring at herself in the mirror, she examined the streams of blood and scrapes that trailed around her neck. Some of her fingernails were now bleeding from where she had been digging into the strange stone wall that had been behind her. Terrified, she pulled a scarf out of closet and pulled it tightly around her neck.

"Everything's fine, Luna."

It wasn't.

* * *

She walked to school with what must've been a boulder on her back, having to stop every now and then and lean on the nearest wall to rest. Late, tired, confused, and scared…she didn't care anymore.

She was currently reclining against a crosswalk sign when a familiar voice called to her from down the sidewalk.

"Odango?"

Oh, please no…not today…

Mamoru sauntered up to her with his hands in his pockets, familiar smirk adorning his lips.

"You're a bit later than usual, wouldn't you think? It seems that I can't shake you no matter when I arrive."

Usagi shut her eyes tightly, grasping the pole behind her as another wave of nausea swept through her.

"Odango?"

Usagi shivered when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, forcing herself to meet Mamoru's eyes.

He sighed, and she could feel his warm breath against her face. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she lied. "I'm just really…tired. That's all."

He blinked. "You look sick."

"Thanks for telling me that I look like crap."

His brows furrowed, and his arms shot up in defense. "I-I didn't mean it like that, Odango."

Sighing, she sidestepped him and began to make her way across the street. "I know what you meant, Mamoru."

He couldn't quite place why, but he followed her. He tried to grab her shoulder before she got away, but instead, he grasped her scarf, frowning when he heard her hiss in pain as it unfurled around her.

Long scratches seemed to flow like a rainbow down across her neck, each one looking fresh and slightly red around the edges. Usagi, who was frowning and desperately trying to conceal the marks, made a mad grab for the scarf, which Mamoru quickly moved behind his back.

"How did this happen?" he demanded, staring down at her furiously.

Usagi hastily thought up a lie. "A stray cat attacked me this morning. It's nothing serious; I don't have rabies or anything."

He didn't look too sure. "Odango, that doesn't look like it's not serious. You seemed like you were going to pass out back there."

"Well I'm fine now, Mamoru-baka. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to class."

She frantically reached for the scarf, but Mamoru still managed to keep it at a distance. "Do you honestly think that you can make it through your classes like that?"

She glared at him. "It's none of your business anyway! Just leave me alone, baka!"

Sighing, he slung his bag from over his shoulder and pulled out a bottle. "If you're going to push yourself to the point of passing out, you should at least have a pain killer or two before you go."

He shook two capsules out and handed them to her, taking the scarf and rewrapping it gingerly around her neck. Mamoru then proceeded to lead her over to the nearest café, his arm securely encasing itself around her petite shoulders as they walked. She blushed, leaning into the hold.

"Where are we going?" she asked softly.

"Well," he began slowly. "Why not stop and get some hot cocoa for you to take those pills with? You're already late anyways; a half hour isn't going to make your teachers hate you any less."

She smacked his arm softly. "Shut up."

He chuckled, and Usagi decided that she liked that sound, especially when it was combined with his heart beat.

She didn't know who those two women from her dreams were, the man they were talking about, or how she had gotten the scratch marks around her neck. But now, she didn't care.

It was at that moment she was certain, that on behalf of the moon, and all the love and chocolate in the world, _he was hers._

* * *

Well, let me know what you thought! REVIEW!!!!!!!!

-Fishyscales ;)


	6. Theme 37: Pocketknife

Well hello there everybody! This is going to be the first of a two or three part drabble that I'm going  
to post every once in a while. With honesty, after a two month hiatus, I was kind of disappointed that  
the last chapter of Never Walk it Off only got four reviews. You people break my heart! Haha, just  
kidding. But please review, because it encourages me to keep writing.

I'd like to thank all the people who have taken time to comment and review on these drabbles, and  
all my other stories!

And next weekend, expect a new story to be posted! It's going to be a lot more happier and it's an  
Usagi/Mamoru romance fanfic that should have most of the humor that I haven't been putting into  
my stories recently...sorry for that, the funny well has dried up momentarily!

Thanks for reading! Review!

* * *

**A Hundred Weeds to Pull**

**Theme 37: Pocketknife (1,809 words)**

**By sakanascales876**

* * *

When I think about it, my fists begin to clench, my brain groans in frustration, mocking my very being for being so stupid…but I force myself to hide it. If my face contorts in the slightest trace of anger, they'll shock me, or knock me out, or hook me up to some machine and try to process my thinking patterns like I'm some kind of alien. But then again, maybe I was.

But in this room, made entirely of what was probably missile-proofed metal, I was alone, but I was still being watched.

Or in basic other words, for those of you who may not know: I screwed up.

All because of that damn _pocketknife_.

I've called myself stupid. I've called myself ignorant, arrogant, just about every word you can think of…but that doesn't stop them. They don't let me out…no one gives me back my rights.

No one believes I deserve them.

But the memory of the incident flashes through my mind like strobe lights from a club, reminding me every day of what I could've easily avoided.

It was sunny, slightly cloudy, and I was content. I wasn't happy…I infrequently was happy, and even if I was, the feeling would have been so unfamiliar that I wouldn't even be able to pinpoint it.

I was outside the Military base just outside of Tokyo, where perhaps a little bit over a thousand people had gathered to watch some kind of festival or air-show take place. Motoki, the overly-friendly man whom had reached out to me, somehow managed to find some old blackmail that was good enough to allow him to drag me along. Now, I don't even remember what it is…that was over two years ago.

From what I've been told, I'm now around twenty years old, but I feel like I'm over a thousand.

Motoki left his lawn chair in the car, and shooed me off to go through the metal detectors so that I could have fun.

From within the straps that hold me down, I rolled my eyes. Yeah buddy, I had a _great_ time.

As I casually dropped my keys into the gray basket about to go through the security scanner, I stepped through the iron gates, only to have my ears shredded to pieces by the maddening shrieks of the sirens that play repeatedly through my mind every minute of every day. Every damn day.

The next thing I know, they have at least six Naval Cadets dog piled on top of me fishing through my person for any weapon they could possible find.

My stupidity never ceases to astound me, especially as they pulled out a nine inch long knife, and a pocketknife that was clipped on the inside of my belt, which I only used against maybe Zoicite when I was particularly aggressive.

My face was against the ground, but I could tell that they were standing above me, reading the tiny inscription that was carved into the base of the sleek, black knife.

_Tuxedo Kamen._

I had come to believe that people were an ignorant race, and that even when the truth was shoved into their faces, they wouldn't believe it until the Lord Himself appeared to them and shone it in their eyes. But from the sickening feeling in my gut as I heard one of the men call for their Commanding Officer, I deduced that I was wrong. They were coming for me, and they knew.

Before they could see my face, I closed my eyes and forced my mask to materialize on my eyes, trying in a last ditch effort to conceal whatever shred of my identity I had left. It worked, for when they hoisted me up, there were squeals and screeches of shock from the men surrounding me, not to mention the few people who were behind me in line.

I put up little struggle as they dragged me into a room, handcuffing my hands and feet together and roughly throwing me in a chair. I wasn't scared, and I wasn't nervous; it would take me mere seconds to get away.

But as the Commanding Officer stepped in, I found that those seconds had been lost.

His name: Kyuubei Iwao

Occupation: Make my life a living hell

And believe me when I say: he did.

"I've read about you and I've seen you on the T.V., but I never thought that you'd be dumb enough to walk in a military base with a pocketknife, Kamen," he grunted, lighting a cigar and puffing a huge cloud of smoke into my face.

I said nothing; they couldn't keep me here and even if they did, I would escape.

Iwao seemed to read my mind for he slapped his hand on my wrist and forced me to look at him.

"You're not getting away, boy. You're the most sought out criminal ever to walk this Earth."

"So now I'm a criminal?" I asked, my fists curling. "I've been saving your lives for the past two years and I'm a criminal for it?"

The Commander seemed to look at me with pity, before saying quietly, "I know what you've done and I have to say that there are a lot of people in this city and this country that respect you, I being one of them." He leant forward. "But then there are people who look at you and fear you; they think you're a freak and they will arrest you just to get you off the streets and into their hands, and there isn't a thing you or I can do about it."

"You could let me go," I said, eyeing the soldiers around him warily.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid not. It's not in my power to do that."

"Then I'll escape."

That made him amused. "You can try," he chuckled. "But believe me when I say that they're going to lock you up where you'll never be found. You'll be tested, experimented on, and the government will use you as a guinea pig."

He reached up and tried to pull the mask away from my face but it wouldn't budge and it shocked him hard enough to singe the skin of his fingers black. He did not look amused, but at least I had enough power to keep my identity a secret.

"Take him away," he growled, standing up and motioning for some men to haul me off.

I could tell that they had guns and knives pointed at my back by the rate they were shoving me towards an armored truck. My mind sighed in agitation: The Commander had been right. They had more security on me than there was at an airport.

The back hatches of the truck were slammed open as we rounded a corner. If there was ever a time to escape, then this was it, but I couldn't bring myself to put up a fight and risk getting shot at.

As they slowly dragged my unmoving feet along, I looked across the side of the building, spotting a familiar pair of Odangos. Despite myself, I laughed. She would get lost and end up near the max security building. Typical Usagi.

Using her silly sneaky antics that we had all become accustomed to, she hopped behind the side of a building, peeking over to see what was going on. I knew she had spotted me, but to her, I was probably just an unfamiliar face. The face of a man that I knew she had a ridiculous crush on.

And I felt ridiculous knowing that she could be the last familiar face I ever saw.

I began to put on a struggle, one that the soldiers were not prepared for. I looked calm, reserved, and maybe even a little uptight, but from years of experience, I knew how to fight.

Purposely, I reached into my sub-space pocket and pulled something out, letting it clatter to the ground where nobody noticed it fall except Usagi. Her eyes seemed to be trained on the little object that would clear up everything.

But when her eyes finally met mine, she nodded in a grave understanding, and I wondered where the foolish young girl had gone. She seemed almost like me at that moment: calm, reserved, skilled, and even resilient.

I stopped moving, and allowed the men to tackle me and thrust me into the back of the truck, a few of them stopping to spit on me before they went around to the front.

As they disappeared, I saw Usagi stealthily sprint over to the object I had dropped, picking it up in surprise and turning it over many times.

Her eyes became even wider than when Motoki placed a chocolate sundae in front of her, and they slowly met mine with a look of utter horror and understanding.

"Chiba Mamoru…is Tuxedo Kamen," she mouthed, or said. I couldn't hear her voice over the shouting and the engine.

I could see her knuckles turn white as they grasped the pocket knife that I kept on my car keys, which were dangling uselessly between her fingers. I watched her stare down at the red casing, reading the name engraved on it over and over again. My name.

_Chiba Mamoru._

The last thing I remember seeing before they closed the hatches of the truck, and probably my normal life, was her face. The haunting eyes of understanding and innocence that haunt my mind to this very day.

I never thought that someone so cheerful or so happy-go-lucky could look like that.

But then again, I thought I could easily escape them before they could do anything horrible.

But on both accounts I was wrong, and those mistakes would doubtlessly cost me the rest of my life and my freedom.

But at least they can't take my thoughts away from me. The ruthless monsters that keep me locked up and experiment on me can't know what I'm thinking or feeling.

They wouldn't find anything that important anyway. Just a young man who's hopefully wishing that he had never gone to that stupid air fest, never brought that stupid pocketknife, and never loved that stupid girl who had thrown a test paper at his head.

I've always hoped that one day, when I found a way to get out of here that I'd be able to see her again, tell her I'm sorry for all those times I told her she was stupid, and call her Odango until I didn't have enough energy to say it anymore. It's that hope that keeps me from giving up the will to live, and for that, I hate her for it.

I wish that I'd never met her. Hell, I wish that I'd never even been born.

At least that way it would have been easier for me to give up.

* * *

Well, stay tuned for part 2! I hope you liked it, and watch out for a new story next weekend!

Please review.

By the way, Happy Holy Saturday/Easter Sunday!

Never trust the bunnies!

-Fishyscales ;)


	7. Theme 75: My Soul's Shelter

Well, here's another drabble for you guys! It's a continuation of Pocketknife, so I suggest you read that one first for this one to  
make sense! Yikes! This one is really long for a drabble, but I needed to put it here.

Thank you to those who review, message, favorite, etc.!

Also, next week, instead of another chapter of Standing Aside, I'll probably just post another drabble I saved for a rainy day, because  
since Standing Aside has been moving a bit slow (because it needs to), I'm going to be putting up chapter 3 and 4 at the same time,  
because chapter five is where the real fun begins.

Sorry to a few of you who have seen my writing as unsatisfactory lately! I'll try harder!

* * *

**A Hundred Weeds to Pull**

By sakanascales876

**Theme 75: My Soul's Shelter (Continuation of Pocketknife)  
3,898 words**

* * *

Silence used to be the one thing that I'd been so welcoming to whenever the end of my day passed. Getting away from all the strife and unnecessary drama was a given…something I wanted so badly to evade. But from the binds, ropes, and blindfolds that completely shut me off from the outside world in my confinement, I missed it.

I craved interaction, and that was exactly what I had trained my mind to hate.

With school, work, and battles, I've never really had any time to reflect on the meaningless and somewhat tedious tasks that seem to make my day. But I've come to realize one thing: when you're alone…for two years…strapped to a table with no access to vision or sound, you start to think about things.

You start to forget what you even look like, sound like, _what _you like.

I never liked many things in my lifetime anyway, but now some normal occurrences have been etched so deeply into my soul that it's a wonder I can still move on as the clock monotonously ticks away every second of my life. I can't hear one; they haven't given me that access, or basically any access that is to be given to the human for life and dignity. But nonetheless, I can still hear it ticking. Perhaps it was the smooth rhythm of my heart.

I missed Motoki; his uncanny knack for being able to cheer me up with some strange action would never cease to amuse me, even when I repeatedly told him that I hated it. I wonder if he does know about who I am…perhaps Usagi told him when she saw me being hauled away.

Damn.

There was one thing that I promised to myself while I was here: never, _ever_, think about her. Why? Because it brings on a vast amount of guilt, regret, and longing that makes me want to shrivel up and die on the darn examining table then and there. Really, I wanted to die anyway because this slow torture was slowly gnawing at my insides like a baby with a teething ring, but I refused.

There was just _so_ much to live for, yet, there was _too_ much to die for.

So, as I found myself lying on the cold table, hands, feet, waist, and neck strapped down by metal bars, I began to think some more.

First, I was never getting out of here…they would cut me open and experiment on me until they got bored, which was probably never. I had no family, one friend, an enemy; not one of them would care if I was missing, except Motoki. He probably cared, or at least I hoped he did.

Second, I was confused. With me gone, isolated, stolen from the face of the Earth…who was fighting the enemy? The planet had obviously not been blown up or exterminated yet, because I and the freaky scientists were still here. Or heck, maybe that _did_ happen, and we were so far down underground that they couldn't even find us.

Then it occurred to me that perhaps Sailor Moon had finally gotten her act together, and didn't need me anymore. With me gone, she probably realized that she couldn't depend on somebody to save her each time she fell.

To me, that hurt. Even though a secret, the fact that I wasn't needed anymore…for _anything_ really upset him.

I am a nobody.

A nobody who was strapped to a table listening to his own heartbeats just to assure himself that life was still going on, regardless of if he was there. The decision of whether or not to live or give up was pulling at my heart like two fish swimming in the opposite direction.

What was the point? I was never going to get out of here anyway. What decision would I ever have to make?

It seemed that that decision would occur today, whether I was prepared or not.

It was then that I first began to hear the tremulous whispers of desperation as I laid in a chipper hallucination of my parents. The blowing whisper against my ear tugged my soul away.

"Oh, God! Please be alive!"

The noise sounded so foreign to me…the last time he had heard someone speak was when he was getting shouted at by the soldiers, yet, this was a voice I could put a face to.

I hesitantly opened my mouth to speak, wondering what my tone would sound like. "Ur-saa…"

I closed my mouth, embarrassed. I hadn't spoken in so long that it would probably take forever for me to get the hang of it again. But the warmth of what seemed like a reassuring grip against my bare shoulder ripped me back to reality. I could almost feel a smile tug at the stranger's lips, if they were indeed who I thought they were.

"Yes, it's me, Usagi."

I heard her mournfully sigh, her soft hand tracing down my arm. "What have they done to you?"

I tried to respond, but this time my voice came out as a rasping growl that made me sound almost angry, but I felt guilty as she flinched.

She was here…it was impossible.

"Kamen, we need to get you out of here," she whispered quickly, but I shook my head.

There was no escape, and there probably wasn't anybody there…I was just imagining it all. Anger stopped my flow of blood and circulated it straight to my head. How could I be so stupid, naïve? Why would _she_ ever come and rescue me? How could she even find me? This dream was too real, and I could feel my mind slipping…it had even believed that she was there, that she was close enough to touch me. It was fooling with me, making me feel and sense things that weren't really present, just because I craved it so much. Someone up there was mocking me.

The blindfold was removed.

As soon as the weight of the cloth was lifted, I felt a cold gush of air whoosh against my face, and I felt naked. With courage, I tried to open my eyes, and they groggily fluttered to the point where they were fully open, but I could barely see anything.

The haziness was starting to settle, and my eyes focused on the one person hovering above me.

The swirling golden hair that fell from two familiar pigtails trickled over the left corner of my mouth, tickling the side of my face gently. The effervescent cerulean eyes that bore holes into my own spoke many words to my deaf ears. She was pleading for my well-being, praising me for not giving up…all the words I wanted to hear from her if I ever did escape this hell, but knew she would never say. She didn't need to; her eyes told it all.

But this wasn't her…this wasn't her at all.

The golden tiara stretching across her forehead and receding into the camouflage of her hair sparkled down at me, along with the red jewels encrusted in her buns.

This wasn't Usagi; this was Sailor Moon.

My eyes, having not yet adjusted to the surrounding light, began to fill with tears. Or at least that was what I convinced myself that they were. It couldn't be from the utter joy of seeing her yet the disappointment that she wasn't who I wanted her to be filling my lungs until I gasped for more air.

She seemed to sense my frustration, for the next moment her gloved hands were cupping my face, tears filling her own eyes.

"It's just me…it's just Usagi," she sniffed. "We've got to get you out of here."

My chest convulsed from the sudden pain in my heart, and my hands struggled against their manacles to reach up and swipe her tears away.

I had to say something…anything. "S-Sai—llo-r…Moo-nn?" I coughed, glad that at least this time it was a bit comprehensible to my own ears.

It seemed that anything could be understood be hers.

She nodded, gulping down what seemed like a lump in her throat, before reaching down to my hands and grasping them, and I clutched at them as tightly as I could, our fingers lacing together and squeezing until I was certain that our fingers would fall off.

She lightly pulled her hands away, and I heard a moan of pain come from my throat from the loss of contact. I could feel her warm breath against my neck, every huff sending a prickle throughout my upper torso. She reached up and grasped both of her hands against the metal, reaching under and curling her hands against the skin of my neck and pulling it. There was a flash of light, and the bond was broken, my neck rising, trying to take up all of the room it could and had been deprived of before.

Usagi's hands snaked up my neck to around the sides of my head, her fingers massaging me and running through my hair. I felt a sudden weight against me chest, and I feebly managed to crane my neck to see her head lying against my heart, the warm skin of her cheek pressed against my cold flesh.

That was how we stayed for what I guessed to be a few minutes, before she lifted herself off me and released the binds on my wrists. I flexed my arms, noting how the once strong muscle weakly raised forward, something that I would have to work on to get back in shape.

I sat up, something I wasn't unaccustomed to, for at least once a day, men would come in and carry me out for food and to use the restroom, though I could never see anything, only wind through drafty hallways that reminded me vaguely of the hospital I had once stayed in.

But I could see now, and I slowly craned my neck toward Usagi, who was reaching down at my feet, attempting to release the clasps at my ankles. She paid no attention to me, so I leant down toward her and gingerly took her working hand in mine before I grasped the metal and easily snapped it, moving onto the other one just as quickly.

She stared up at me in awe, her hand trembling within mine.

"We have to get out of here," she repeated with a quiver.

I took my legs and swung them over the table, unsteadily planting my feet against the ground before standing up to face her, the pants that were too long on my dragging along the floor.

She gave me a smile that appeared to defrost my frozen body, for the next thing I knew, I engulfed her into a hug, rubbing my face into her hair and holding her as close as possible.

I was surprised that I was even strong enough to do this, but I whispered into her hair, "Th-thank you."

She nodded against my chest, reaching behind her and grasping my hand tightly, guiding me away from the room. I noticed the door had been busted open, lying on its shattered hinges looking almost as broken as I had been, pleading to nobody and everybody to be fixed.

Usagi directed my wobbly legs down a spiral of many hallways, each looking plainer than the last, though there were quite a few injured guards propped against the walls.

I stared at her in wonder, a frown creasing my forehead. "H-How did you get in h-here?" My speech was getting better to my happiness.

She didn't look back at me, something that troubled me deeply, though my feelings were unfounded. Just because I had been deprived of interaction for the past two years, didn't mean I had to leech onto her. But I wanted to.

"That Commanding Officer guy, Kyuubei-something 'anonymously' tipped me off after a battle in the park of where you were being held, and when the best time to get you would be. I-I would have gotten to you faster, but I just couldn't find you…"

She broke off there, and I knew she was choking on her tears. As we trudged quickly through the corridors, I reached up and circled an arm around her, driving myself faster and supporting some of her weight that I really couldn't handle at the moment. I put up with it nonetheless, and enjoyed the fact that she didn't push me off.

Kyuubei Iwao...I shook my head with almost-tears in my eyes, heart swelling with admiration. If I ever got the chance to see that man again…

Usagi kicked open a door at the end of a hallway, and I immediately shielded my eyes with a wince.

It was bright, blinding, and blurring against my eyes.

It was sunlight.

It shone against my deathly white skin, and I almost collapsed to the floor as the warmth washed over my skin.

My knees were still planted in the building, the disgusting linoleum running bitterly through the fabric of my pants. My hands were rooted into rough Earth that must have been trampled on a thousand times by angry boots who were the subject of my isolation.

But it was still Earth nonetheless, and it was my element. My fingers almost melted into the soil, and I crawled pathetically over to a fresh patch of grass, relishing as the soft bristles were pushed at me by the wind.

Usagi stopped to glance at me, furrowing her light brows and slowly stepping toward me. "Mamoru…we have to leave."

She offered me a hand to help me up, but I grasped it firmly and pulled her down, chuckling in my throat as her nose bashed uncomfortably against mine, nearly knocking my mask from my face.

"Just give me one minute," I asked softly, wanting nothing more but to lay there with her nestled in my arms, if not for just another moment.

She complied, but I could sense some agitation as she settled roughly beside me, heaving a sigh and crossing her arms over her chest.

I turned my head toward her and drew some breath in, readying to speak. "Where are we?"

She jolted as though awoken, which made me amused. The fact that it made me amused, however, seemed to irritate me. Since when did I become so dependent on someone that I had to keep them with me at all times? Since when did I ever act that way…especially toward _her_, my despised enemy?

I bit the corner of my lip as I stared at her, who was trying to respond, but couldn't find the words. I didn't hate her…she was practically the only person I thought about since I had been gone.

Numbness set through my fingers at that thought; it was sad. I actually had to rely on memories of my enemy to keep me moving on.

But if she was my enemy, why did she come to get me?

Why did she cry for me?

Why did she hug me when she saw me?

Was it pity?

She blew out a huge breath in my face, and my nose wrinkled at the sudden smell of what I immediately recognized as chocolate breath. God…when was the last time I had chocolate?

"Why don't you have a mustache?" she asked innocently, reaching out a gloved finger and tracing it across my upper lip.

I froze, my eyes crossing as she touched me, but I blinked it away and stared back at her.

"What on Earth are you talking about?"

"Well," she huffed, sitting up. "You've been in there for about two and a half years…I think logically you should have a mustache by now."

I stopped for a moment to scratch at my face, trying greatly to conceal my mirth. "Believe it or not, I had access to shaving, Odango."

She flushed, and I could feel her through the Earth digging her fingers into the soil. "They let you have a razor blade in there?"

"Of course not. Some men in there ran it across my face every week or so," I said, rolling my eyes. But I reached up a hand to trace a scar that was running across my cheek from when one of the soldiers or scientists or whatever had accidentally 'slipped.'

"I think you would look cool in a mustache."

"I think I'd look like some kiddy stealer."

She slapped her hand against the dirt. "That is so mean! My uncle has a mustache!"

I reached out a finger and tilted her chin up, my miserable eyes drinking in all the reserves of light that were held in hers. "Does your uncle have children?"

"Yes!"

"Bingo."

Usagi pushed my hand away. "Let's just go!"

"Where to?" I asked, looking around the field of grass, which was sparsely littered with a few patches of trees.

"Motoki's," she answered. "He moved all your stuff to his place after you got taken. We'll go and figure out what to do from there."

I shook my head at her, my tone turning soft. "Usagi…where are we?"

I saw her shoulders stiffen and she turned around, looking forlornly at anywhere but my eyes. "I feel so stupid…"

The wind whipped around us, her hair lashing at my face, but I purposefully tangled my fingers within it to keep it out of my way, standing up and reaching out for her. She pulled away, fiercely looking past me.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, slowly crumpling to the ground and wrenching shaking hands over her ears.

Stupidly, I frowned and said down to her, "For what?"

To my shock, her shoulders began to tremble and a rasping voice tore from her throat. Instinctively, my body tensed up, and I was afraid to touch her.

She was crying.

I stared at her uncertainly, pondering on what to do. I wasn't exactly a consoling guru, but if I just stood there I'd feel like a jerk. Hesitantly, I stepped toward her and crouched down next to her, patiently waiting for her to stop crying. I felt that if I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder or something that she'd snap off my finger with a pair of pliers.

And it didn't exactly get any better when she began to shout at me either.

"You're in a base in Northern Japan!" she sobbed. "I could have saved you sooner if I had just tried! But I failed! I failed as a leader…I failed as a Senshi…and I failed as your friend!"

My gaze quaked as her essence seeped into my arms along with her lithe figure that was now squeezing my waist with enough force to knock the wind out of me.

"It's not your fault," I tried to say, but she just continued to cry, "I failed!" over and over into my chest.

She wouldn't let go, not that I was pushing her away, but I just wanted her to stop crying. It hurt me just as much as it hurt her and I wasn't just talking about the fact that she was using me like a pillow to wring her anger out on.

There was a clacking, and she tensed within my hold, her head slowly rising and staring fearfully over my shoulder. I was almost too afraid to turn myself, but I craned my neck far enough to see the gun that was unambiguously pointed at the back of my head.

"Don't move," the guard growled, a trickle of blood seeping down from the side of his head.

My mind began to formulate a plan, trying to work out every scenario. The odds weren't looking too good for me, but as long as I got Usagi out of there…

"Kamen," she whispered fiercely in my ear. "We _have_ to get _out_ of here." Her nails dug into my shoulders.

I slowly, as in by millimeters, began to sink into the ground…literally. Usagi let out a squeak when she noticed the movement, but I looked at her warningly. At this rate, the guard would notice us falling into the Earth, but if I just fell quickly, he might take a shot at us from the jolt. There had to be another way…

I looked around, but closed my eyes and winced as my long bangs were blown into my face.

I shifted slightly on my knees and leant over so I was completely sheltering Usagi, encasing her confused head between mine and murmuring, "Stay still."

"Stop talking!" the guard barked, jabbing the tip of the gun into my back. I stiffened, fear manifesting from where it touched me, but I continued to shield her from harm.

The wind began to pick up, and I realized my chance was now.

I could hear dogs and many other heavy boots storming toward us, but I closed my eyes, breathing in and out deeply…waiting.

It appeared as if our skin was melting together, twisting and turning as the wind swept us up, our colors blending together.

I heard the guard shoot, but it passed right through me, merely rippling through my back and passing straight through Usagi. I willed it with my mind, having it latch onto us and carry us away, the invisible color of the wind soiled with the golden and black swirls that lifted our spirits back into civilization.

It was less than a minute before we were planted firmly on the roof of the Starlight Tower.

I collapsed to my side, panting heavily and clutching at my head as it pounded brightly against my skull. She fell beside me and placed her hands over mine, her thumbs massaging my temples like I used to back when I was a stressed-out college student.

"Thank you," I rasped, trying to collect myself. I just couldn't; I used more power than I should have, especially in my weak condition.

"Mamoru…I'm so sorry!" she croaked, burying her head into my chest and shaking it back and forth. "You shouldn't have--,"

"Usagi," I growled harshly, feeling irritated. I wished she would stop berating herself…it wasn't like she was the one who was idiotic enough to walk through Air-base security with a pocketknife with your alter-ego's name engraved on it, right?

"Just get me home," I pleaded, taking her hands in mine and lifting her up so instead of being on my chest she was staring me directly in the eye. "Just get me home."

After a while, she nodded shakily, the tears that seemed to be restrained falling from her eyes from the movement. A few dripped onto my chest, and each one seared a hole in my skin, almost making my back arch from the pain.

She helped me onto my feet, throwing one arm over my shoulder and half carrying me across the roofs of buildings, my feet involuntarily trained to know when to jump.

Closing my eyes, I dropped my soul into her hands, trusting her to keep it safe as we lumbered across the city to Motoki's apartment. She clutched it uncertainly, nearly dropping it a few times, but catching it at the last moment.

Hiding the beaded tears cascading down my face, I buried my head into the crook of her neck, ignoring the shame of feeling the cold liquid press against her skin.

"Thank you, Usa."

She'd saved me. Finally...she'd saved me.

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Well, there you go! I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope Mamoru's character was correct!  
Please Review!

-Fishyscales ;)


	8. Theme 76: Family

Here's another drabble. I know I haven't put anything out lately, but writing hasn't been exactly my fortee at the moment. I guess I could say I'm in sort of a slump at the moment, so the next chapter of Standing Aside is going to be delayed for a bit, but I'll have it out as soon as I can manage. I'm going to start updating a few more drabbles, because they really help me base myself, if that makes sense. Just wanted to thank all the reviewers, and say that I'm not the owner of Sailor Moon, and I never will be.

Here ya go; enjoy if you can.

But happy Father's Day to all of you out there! Just felt I needed to post this for the sake of posting!

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**A Hundred Weeds to Pull**

By sakanascales876

**Theme 76: Family (777 words)**

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Shingo reeled in his fishing pole, taking a moment to pick the sea grass out of it before casting again. With his face as placid as the water, he calmly stated, "Usagi's late."

Kenji, who was trying to loop a worm onto his hook didn't even cast his youngest child a glance. "I noticed."

"You're not upset?"

"I never said that," he sighed, raking a hand through his black hair. "I guess I'm just used to it."

That was a lie, his mind admonished. Truth be told, he missed his daughter. It seemed that she was never around long enough anymore, and when she promised that she'd go fishing with them, he wasn't even sure if he believed her then. He inconspicuously glanced down at his cell phone, hoping there'd be one missed call from her, telling him a valid reason of why she hadn't arrived yet if she were going to arrive at all. Nothing.

Shingo snorted. "I don't think anybody can honestly get used to Hurricane Usagi. I'd be angry if I were you. Even a ditz like her knows that today's Father's Day."

"Well, son; you're not me," Kenji said simply, hoping to leave it at that. But of course, his curiosity got the better of him so that in a matter of moments he glanced down at Shingo, a question popping into his mind.

"Where do you think she is?" he asked.

Shingo shrugged. "I don't know what Usagis do in their free time. She's probably at the Arcade or with one of the girls."

Though he was wishing for a more sufficient answer, Kenji nodded, his mind at peace for the most-part. He didn't like that Usagi hung around with those girls more than she did her own family, but they seemed to be rubbing off on her in a good way. Thanks to Mizuno-san, Usagi didn't have a single grade below a D anymore. And if she was with them, she was safe.

He glanced over at Ikuko, who was smiling in the sunlight, watching happily as they fished. The corners of his mouth twitched as he glanced at her somewhat secretive smile.

"What are you so happy about?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

She didn't respond, but merely extended her arm and gave a friendly wave in front of her, kindly calling, "Hi, sweetheart! Is this a friend of yours?"

Kenji craned his neck to the path Ikuko was looking down, and sure enough, there was Usagi...holding hands with a dark, handsome man that looked to be at least four years her senior. He looked somewhat nervous. _Good_, Kenji thought darkly, he's _not taking away my little girl any more than she already is gone_.

"Hey, mom, dad. This is my friend Chiba Mamoru." The boy nodded politely and Usagi smiled. "Can he join us for the day?"

No. This is Father's Day, Kenji growled to himself. This was time with his _family_, not some stranger, and definitely not a boy that was practically _leeching_ onto his little girl! Which is why he made it a priority to make sure that Mamoru noticed him glaring holes into his ugly, green jacket.

"Of course," Ikuko said, waving them over to sit. "We're not really doing anything though, Chiba-san. Just fishing."

"That's alright," Mamoru spoke in a strong voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

But it wasn't a pleasure for Kenji. The whole while he sat on the wooden dock, he furtively glowered at his fishing line as Ikuko subtly interrogated Mamoru about himself. Oh, so he was studying to be a doctor, was twenty years old (which burned itself into Kenji's mind), and he lived in the upscale apartments in Azabu! This was just perfect…now it'd take him forever to come up with a suitable excuse as to why Usagi couldn't 'hang out' with him.

He felt a tremendous tug against his hands, and just as quickly, with the help of Shingo, he managed to reel in a fish that was easily over two feet long. It flopped on the deck and Usagi squealed, screaming vehemently that if that fish came near her she was going to rip somebody's head off. They were all laughing when he began to unhook the fish, and he couldn't help but laugh with them.

"That's quite a catch, Kenji," Ikuko murmured from his side, but he wasn't paying attention to her at the moment.

Kenji stared as Mamoru was gently teasing Usagi, a light twinkle in both their eyes as they laughed with each other. With a huff of frustration, he turned back down to the fish.

"Yeah," he grudgingly admitted. "He sure is."

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Let me know what you thought! Reviews are appreciated!  
Until next time, and Happy Father's Day!  
-Fishyscales ;)


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